Ysendor the Immortal lay dying on the floor.
“Now I shall drink your Elixir,” proclaimed Trystero, “and build a new kingdom of freedom! Never again will we suffer tyrants!”
With his final breath, Ysendor laughed.
“Oh, it’s Liberation Festival again? Seems only yesterday…”
“Don’t bother me with trifles, Sameo... Sibbeo…. What is your name?”
“Sapiro! Where are-? What, dead? For how long?”
“Oops, there’s another gladiator gone. Carry on! Spilt milk and so on.”
“Fall, Trystero! Father, you are avenged! I shall drink the Elixir and forge a new kingdom…”
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